Depression
by koreanmusicforever
Summary: I didnt know what to put it under o-O


Each day and each week takes a toll on your already weak body. You get upset at the smallest things because all your life, it's been hell. You don't know how to react to affection because all you ever felt was abuse. You were so sure of taking your own life that you did anything and everything to end it. You started with cutting. You waited until everyone was either asleep or away while you were there, alone, in your bedroom.

You got up from your bed that's in the corner of your small room and went to your hiding spot. You take out the box that's hidden there and open it up. Inside is 10 blades, lots of paper towers, and band-aids. You take one blade, a few paper towels, and a handful of band-aids. You aren't sure of how many cuts there will be, nor how deep.

You close the box and put it back into hiding. You go back to your bed but stop. Why do this on your bed when you should be in a bath? You set your items down, underneath a few items in case someone comes home and sees. You go across the hall to the bathroom and turn on the bathtub faucet. You make sure its hot. Once it fills up to the depth you like, you go back to your room to get the items you've hidden. You walk back to the bathroom and close the door. You strip off your clothes, trying not to look at the mirror, nor your body. You hate your body, your face...It's hideous to you.

You wish with all your might that you could change all of it, but you can't. You sigh shakily and steps into the hot bath. It burns but you sit in it anyway, getting through the pain. Once your body gets used to the heat, you lean back and grab your blade. Since you were in water, you didnt really need the paper towel or band-aid until you're finished so you left them in your room.

You take a deep breath and hold it as you dug the razor blade into your left arm, close to your shoulder. You cut it downwards until you reach an inch from your elbow. It doesn't bleed at first, but you poor water over it, causing blood to rush out. The pain intensifies with the water, so you cry out. You're glad no one is home.

You watch the blood flow into the water, coloring it red. You softly smile, take another deep breath, and cut again, this time, into your forearm. Its not a long one, but it is very deep. You aren't sure on why you do this. You just know that in a messed up way, it helps. It helps you cope with what happens to you, and what happened. It helps you know that you are still alive. It helps you to know that you can still bleed. It helps you to see that you, too, are human, like those other people.

You relax for a while to let the cuts stop bleeding, but you realize you're feeling a bit dizzy. You feel the need of more cuts. More blood. You try to fight it, but you are defeated. You cut again, your thighs..stomach...legs. You want to cut all of it, but there was a knock at the door. You panic when it opens.

You're forced out of the bath, dragged by the hair out into the livingroom, and beaten almost to death for the cuts. Your family leaves you laying there, slowly bleeding to death. You black out and wake up the next morning in the same spot, still naked. You sigh shakily again and get up to go get dressed.

You're sick and tired of all of this. The beatings. The ugliness. You just were so tired of it all. One day, you decide to overdose. Once you take the 25 pills, you regret it. You get scared and realized you didn't want to die, at least not so soon. You had so much to live for, but it may be too late now.

You dial 911 and tell them what happened and that you were afraid. Afraid of death. Afraid to let go. You could feel the world slipping away, and you just wanted to hold on, just a little longer, but then the world turns black. When you wake back up, you notice its a funeral. You look at all the people that showed up. You wonder who's funeral it is, so you go up to someone and ask them, but they don't seem to hear you.

You kept asking, but kept getting ignored, so you got pissed off until you notice your family in tears. You thought your family never loved you. They always beat you, why would they love you? You were so confused until you realized that you died from overdose. The realization hit you pretty hard. You fell to your knees and started to cry. You wanted to live. You had so much ahead of you.

You were so upset until you felt warmth. You looked up and noticed all that you ever wanted was there. There was a mirror in front of you, but the reflection was who you always wanted to be. You smiled. You were finally happy with how you looked. You looked around you and you knew what affection was. Your family. All of these people. They are at your funeral, in tears.

You were finally happy. You still wanted to live, but the afterlife...you were who you wanted to be. You didn't want to go back to being miserable again, looking hideous...although you missed it. You missed it because it was normal for you. But now...now you have a new life. You can restart, although you weren't alive anymore.


End file.
